’ Emile reached out both hands and grasped her shoulders. And there was no intimation whatever that the blinds would ever go up or the windows or doors be opened, or the chandeliers, that seemed to promise such a blaze of fire, unveiled and furnished and lit. It was a serene and charming evening, and twilight was gently stealing over the face of the country. Until that moment, Jarvis had imagined the child to be safe in the wet-nurse’s cottage.
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